


fickle and faint

by gabriphales



Series: gomens drabble hell [25]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23913739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale comforts gabriel after yeshua's death. plotless drabble that pretty much just exists for me to ramble abt these fuckers
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: gomens drabble hell [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713
Kudos: 11





	fickle and faint

**Author's Note:**

> i think abt this a lot actually

gabriel's head feels heavy in his lap. it's an insurmountable pressure, a weight that he can't seem to define or pinpoint as anything specific. his fingers combing through gabriel's hair are like pine needles through syrup. the sticky sap that seeps from its branches, enticingly amber, like delicate caramel. but as soon as he brings it to his lips, its taste goes bright and sour. too much to tolerate. it sticks between his teeth.

"i'm tired." gabriel mutters. "i think i am, at least. is this what tired feels like?"

aziraphale bristles at the question. he's never good at handling when gabriel opens his mouth. it's an unsightly, hazardous risk. he knows with every word gabriel lets pass over his tongue, there's the definite possibility that he might - just might - he's going to say something, _something_ that aziraphale will linger on for the next three weeks. the kind of offhand comment that smarts like an open wound, rubbed full of granite and salt.

gabriel isn't easy to get along with. but aziraphale tries for him, he really does. as adored as he is in heaven, he doesn't have many actual _friends_ up there. sincere companionship isn't a golden necessity in the divine eye. the few interpersonal relationships gabriel does maintain are shaky at best, held together by the half-stitched threads of business priority over personal comfort. 

speaking honestly, most people that know gabriel rather wish they didn't. but it's not like they can just avoid him. he's a detail everyone takes without complaint, as there's nothing else they really can do. he's the stain on a favorite shirt that never quite washed out, or the splintered edge of an old coffee table. an inconvenience at worst, but undeniably _useful_ to the heavenly crowd. he is god's personal golden boy, her favored angel, after all.

he's been put in charge of so much for a reason. doltish as he is within any perimeter of social interaction, gabriel's actually quite good at what he does, in terms of leadership. and aziraphale respects his authority, aziraphale respects him - doesn't he? he _likes_ gabriel, which is more than most can say, and he spends a gratuitous amount of time tending to his sorely depleted needs for connection.

but he doesn't always agree with gabriel. they're an odd pairing, all things considered. aziraphale disagrees with him on most things, yet even so, he's gabriel's only real chance at a proper acquaintance. he's the only one willing to talk to him, to endure his insults, to endure his - well - _everything._ and aziraphale doesn't want to give up on him. not yet, not while they've still got a chance.

especially not right now, with gabriel daring the edge of a sniffle in his lap. he makes a wet, weary noise, and rubs his eyes with his knuckles. he goes too rough, and that has to hurt, aziraphale thinks. he's always too rough with everything he does. but aziraphale likes him. aziraphale likes him anyways.

"they're damp. my eyes." gabriel says. he sounds astounded, and aziraphale's hard-pressed not to start laughing.

"they do that," he reassures him, keeping up the gentle pace of stroking against gabriel's scalp, letting the silky strands of hair tickle the skin between his fingers. "don't worry about it."

"my chest hurts." gabriel continues complaining, though it's more of an introspective search than anything else. like he's trying to sort through all the physical symptoms in hopes of a root to this distress. this sore, burning ache that's overextended its stay.

"that'll happen too. do you want water? i can get some from the lake."

"no," gabriel mutters, clearly having decided before speaking. "no, i want you to stay here. with me."

his hand grips aziraphale's, thumb rubbing over his palm in a back-and-forth sweep, and for once - for _once,_ he's learned to be gentle. 

"just like this?" aziraphale asks him.

gabriel nods, all too quietly, all too out of character. "yeah. just like this."

and aziraphale listens. he sleeps sitting up that night, only resigning from his post when he wakes to find gabriel already gone. the space where his head had laid still glows with an aftermath of warmth, and aziraphale only scolds himself a little bit for wishing he could keep his robes that way forever. basked in gabriel's heat, baptized in something holy and indescribable.


End file.
